Forever Intertwined
by Libquedation
Summary: Every day Pocahontas has waited for John Smith to return. Every day. The spirits' voices in the wind whispers that he will return. The question is just when.


It had been four seasons since John Smith had sailed back to London from the New World.

Four seasons since Pocahontas last spoke to him in person.

Every night since, she has spoken to him in her dreams. They were always different, but always held him within them. Every time the wind brushed her face, she felt his fingers on her cheek for the first moment.

She could look in the water all day, and all she would see would be his face.

Everything reminded her of him.

In the mornings she would rise and go out to the Grandmother Willow, climb to the highest branches, and look out to the sea. If there was no ship on the horizon, she would sink back down dejectedly and go about her duties. If white billowing sails could be seen, she would run back to the village, which would become a flurry of activity to greet the new arrivals. Then, she would run to the coast and wait.

Asking one person was enough. If no one knew of a John Smith on board, she would forget what was happening and retreat inside herself, just long enough to picture him, hear his voice.

_I'll always be with you, forever. _

It was true.

She could never go a moment without his face entering her thoughts.

Once in a while in the middle of the night, Pocahontas would slip by the night guards and journey to the waterfall where she first spoke to John. There she would sit for hours, listening to the wind as it whispered past conversations into her ears, and a few tears would slip down her cheeks as she remembered.

She missed him.

Her father knew this. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she moved around now. Fervently, he would ask the spirits that one day John Smith would return and bring light back into his daughter's life.

One morning, the skies were gray and rain trickled down through the smoke hole in the roof of Pocahontas's hut. She knew that she could not venture to the Grandmother Willow on a day like this. Instead, she vouched to stay in her hut and weave a new blanket for the newest child in the village.

Her mind would wander, and more often than not, she had to stop her weaving, for the memories would overtake her being.

"Hear me now, spirits that surround me, bring him back to me. He is the light that keeps me alive, the soul that matches mine. He may be just around the river bend, but I need him here, now. Give me the strength."

"Pocahontas?" Came from the flap of her hut. Standing fluidly, she opened it to reveal one of the warriors that her father trained. "Your father wants to speak with you."

"Thank you." She quickly trot across the village through the mist into her father's hut. He was sitting cross legged upon a small mound of furs.

"I have news you might be happy to hear. One of the watchmen spotted a ship on the horizon last night before the rains came."

A spark of hope grew alight within Pocahontas, and she felt herself smile.

"May I go now?"

"Yes. Travel swift as the eagle, and stay safe."

"Always."

Pocahontas turned on her heel and jogged out of the village, and as soon as she was in the forest, she broke into a run, the eagle helping her fly across the ground.

There was more hope in her this time, more so than any other time. She was almost excited.

Her mind told her it was not a smart idea to continue running down this path, that her emotions would be crushed and she would be left in more parts than she was before. But the wind whispered in her ear and spoke comforting things to her, kept her spirits light.

Once she reached the outskirts of the immigrant's village, she slowed down, the white sails now in sight. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. There was much flurry within the wooden walls that were still raised. Most of the villagers were still untrustworthy of Pocahontas and her people, even after all they have done for each other.

She was welcomed with open arms, and she smiled thankfully at the villagers.

"Where are the new arrivals?" She asked calmly, trying to suppress her nerves.

"By the port. Let me take you." One of the few woman in the camp, Elizabeth, said to Pocahontas, taking her hand gently and leading her through the camp. Once they arrived at the harbor, Pocahontas stopped, her eyes scanning quickly.

"Do you know if anyone named John Smith arrived here today?" She asked as the rain started to slow down, the beat becoming lighter.

"I'm not positive Pocahontas."

"Thank you." Pocahontas said softly, disentangling herself from Elizabeth and moving towards the ship.

She moved towards the ship, waltzing between bodies, looking for the familiar bright hair and blue eyes.

"Pocahontas?" She looked in the direction of the person who called her name, and froze, her heart skipping a beat.

He was standing there, just as beautiful as the day she first saw him. But this time, she wasn't going to run away.

"John…" Her voice trailed off as her feet carried her into his arms, the feelings washing over her. He whispered her name into her hair, his arms grasping her tight around her body, planting soft kisses on her forehead.

"Pocahontas, I never thought I would see you again." He whispered into her ear. She shook her head, the wind carrying it around them, encasing them from the world.

"I was always waiting."

"I was afraid you would have forgotten me."

"Never. You are a part of me. Of my spirit."

"And you a part of mine."

Pocahontas buried herself in John's neck, reveling in the feel of arms around her that she thought she would never feel around her again.

The wind whistled around them, spinning in circles, the spirits whispering their happiness to the two.

They parted, the rain had stopped.

"Will I be welcomed back?" He asked softly, sounding worried. Pocahontas looked up at him.

"I have lived the past four seasons tormented with nothing but sight of you muddling my mind. I am in love with you John Smith, and they must accept it."

"I have thought about you every moment since I was forced to leave."

"But you came back and we are together again." Pocahontas said in that matter of fact way she had of putting things.

"Yes, we are."

"Always."

"You sure?"

"I'm as sure as I know that the sun will rise and set every day."

"I love you Pocahontas."

"I love you John Smith."

Their fingers intertwined, as did their souls, forever bound as one.


End file.
